


The Spark

by NotWhoIAppearToBe



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, First Meeting, Gyda is alive, Heahmund got played, Hurt feelings, Ivar is a jerk, M/M, Modern AU, One Night Stand, Other, Ragnar is an arms dealer, Sex, Sigurd is alive, sigurd is an asshole
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-04-06 06:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19057099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotWhoIAppearToBe/pseuds/NotWhoIAppearToBe
Summary: “Are you fucking kidding me? A priest is coming to live with us? Please tell me you’re joking!”A Modern AU where Ragnar is still alive and head of his family. A theology student is coming to stay with the Lothbrok's during the summer and Ivar is not happy about it. This is the story of when Ivar met Heahmund.





	1. Chapter 1

“Are you fucking kidding me? A priest is coming to live with us? Please tell me you’re joking!”

Ivar was pissed. Ragnar had summoned all his children to the house. He had something important to talk to them about. As a successful businessman and a top arms dealer, he knew his children would obey without question. One by one they had arrived for an extended stay at the family compound. His first two children with his ex-wife were the first to arrive. Bjorn stood tall and absorbed his father’s words with no argument crossing his lips. Gyda stood there, beautiful and trying not to smirk at Ivar and his usual litany of temper tantrums. His children with his now deceased second wife Aslaug sat or paced to various degrees of confusion. As usual, Ubbe took the news in stride. Very little fazed him. Hvitserk stared as if not quite understanding his father’s words. Sigurd stood apart from them, eyes out the window. He was annoyed though trying not to show it. He hated being at the compound and anywhere near the vicinity of Ivar.

Looking at his youngest son, Ragnar refrained from losing his temper. Out of all his children, Ivar was the future of the family. Though he would never tell his children this, as smart and capable as they all were, it was Ivar who would someday lead the family and take over. He was only 19 but his was an intelligence rarely seen. He was also cunning, witty and had an uncanny ability to outthink and outplay people. He could strategize and was always several steps ahead of competitors.

Ragnar had discovered this by accident when he had allowed Ivar to come to a meeting when Ivar was 15. Ivar had been unable to keep his mouth shut despite his uncle Rollo and Floki trying their hardest to silence him. By the end of the meeting, Rollo, Floki and Ragnar had been stunned that this precocious teenage boy had outmaneuvered ruthless crime lords and killers into doing exactly what he wanted them to do.

Ever since then, Ragnar had slowly started to incorporate Ivar into the family business as a leader along with Ubbe and Gyda while his other sons acted as enforcers or middlemen.

The problem was Ivar’s temper and instability. Until he could keep his emotions in check and his temper under control, it was Ubbe and Gyda who would hold the reins.

Giving his attention back to Ivar, Ragnar stifles a sigh as he tries not to lose his temper with his youngest son.

“He’s not a priest Ivar. He’s a student of theology at the University. He was in the military and is now studying religion.”

Despite being an arms dealer, Ragnar had legitimate businesses and donated heavily to charities and local churches. It was through Father Carmichael and their monthly luncheons at the church that he had found out that this student was looking for a place while he continued his studies in the summer. The University housing was closed to students during this time and he needed a place to stay for two months. Ragnar liked Father Carmichael and he had spoken highly of the young man. Ragnar also liked the idea of a serious student of theology and former Marine being close to Ivar. Perhaps some of his work ethic would rub off on his youngest and help temper his outrageous behaviors though he wouldn’t tell Ivar this. That would only anger him some more.

“I don’t give a shit what he is. Why the hell is he staying here? Does he know we don’t believe in his bullshit? Is he gonna bring his crosses and incense and try to bring us closer to God?”

His brothers wisely stayed silent when they saw Ragnar’s jaw clench. He was perilously close to losing his temper. When Ragnar clenched his fists, Gyda stepped in and put a hand on Ivar’s shoulder.

“Ivar, calm down. He’s merely staying here. You can’t be angry at the man when he’s done nothing wrong. He will likely spend his days at church or in prayer and his nights asleep by 8. You don’t have to interact with him if you don’t want to.”

She leans closer to Ivar to whisper in his ear.

“Father is going to lose it soon. Calm the hell down.”

Ivar limps back to the couch and sits, a sullen expression on his face. He takes out his knife and begins to play with it, ignoring everyone in the room. In his mind, they were all cowards for going along with this ridiculous plan. A fucking priest here with them. What a joke.

It is Gyda who breaks the silence to ask when their guest is expected. She barely finishes her sentence when the distinct sound of a motorcycle is heard.

“What the…”

Sigurd leaves his post by the window to go outside shortly followed by his father and siblings.

“That would be him right now.”

Ragnar smiles as their guest pulls up in a black and chrome custom Harley, his face covered by a helmet, sunglasses and face mask.

Curiosity drives Ivar to leave his spot on the couch and go to the window to see the priest. He gets his first surprise when he sees a tall muscular man with tattoos on a Harley. The second surprise is when the man removes the helmet, face mask and sunglasses to reveal short dark hair, a face with an intriguing scar across his cheek and blue eyes unlike any Ivar had ever seen other than his own. His mouth opens slightly but he makes no sound as the man greets Ragnar with a smile and shakes his hand, introducing himself to him and then to his siblings. He notices Gyda standing tall and straight and flirtatiously flipping her hair as she greets the man. He barely restrains rolling his eyes at her antics. Maybe he could get the priest to hit on Gyda and get him kicked out. That may be fun.

As they come up to the entrance, he hears the man’s voice for the first time. It’s deep, cultured and he has an accent. Was he English? As they enter, the man turns and gets his first look at the one Lothbrok he hasn’t met. Walking up to him, he gives Ivar a slight smile and puts out his hand in greeting.

“Hello, I’m Heahmund Bishop. You must be Ivar.”

Ivar could only nod as he reaches out to shake his hand. For once in his life he’s at a loss for words and doesn’t understand why. As their palms meet, the both quickly let go at the immediate spark between them. Laughing slightly, Heahmund rubs his palm.

“Must be some static electricity. It’s good to meet you Ivar.”

Turning back to Ragnar, he walks with him to his study so they can talk leaving the Lothbrok children in various states of surprise over their new guest and leaving Ivar confused.


	2. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is more to Heahmund and his reasons for being there than meets the eye. Ivar has a bullshit detector that spots lies and fakes a mile away.

Spin, spin, spin.

Faster. Faster. Faster.

His knife was a blur as he kept playing with it on the balcony outside of his bedroom. His father and Heahmund had been in the study for over an hour talking. Ivar grew bored of waiting so he had retreated to the solitary confines of his rooms, isolated from all the family. Everyone had rooms on the second and third floor but not Ivar. Oh, not him. Because of his legs, it was thought that putting him on the first floor meant he wouldn’t have to go up and down the stairs. He’d had surgeries on his legs to put in those steel rods hadn’t he? Sure they hurt like hell sometimes and he often would have to use a cane to help him walk but he wasn’t the cripple everyone treated him as. 

Spin. Spin. Spin.

He was jolted by a knock on the door of his bedroom. Before he can respond, his door opens and his father fills the frame, smiling at Ivar with uncharacteristic friendliness.

“Ivar, help Heahmund settle in and give him a tour of the house. He will be staying in the guest room next to yours. You’re ok with that right?”

As if there was ever any arguing with Ragnar. Ivar simply nodded but kept his mouth shut. He was still angry but his curiosity about the priest pushed him to stand quickly and go to the bedroom next door. He was also wondering why Heahmund was given that bedroom since the few times any guests had ever come over (and most were uncle Rollo or Floki), they were given rooms on other floors. No one ever stayed anywhere near Ivar and he preferred it that way. Or perhaps he was used to everyone not wanting to be around him so he cocooned himself in a shell of anger, temper and bitterness and drove everyone away. Scowling at his own thoughts, he knocks quickly on Heahmund’s door, irrationally annoyed with the man again. When the door opens, his scowl becomes a look of surprise. For all the smiles he gave to the family downstairs, Heahmund just stares at Ivar coldly. There’s no expression on his face nor does he speak. For a long moment, they simply stare at each other before Heahmund breaks the ice.

“Yeah? You need something?”

Ivar blinks at the almost rude tone of his voice. This was a different priest than the one who by all appearances was friendly downstairs. Scowling, he walks right into the bedroom without asking for permission, his own expression mirrored by the priest who did not look altogether happy to see Ivar. Standing in front of Heahmund, Ivar just stared and said nothing.

*************************

Heahmund was mulling over his talk with Ragnar. By all appearances, this job should have been easy. All he had to do was play the friendly priest, befriend Ivar (was that even possible?) and most importantly, keep him alive. 

None of the Lothbrok siblings knew what was happening. Ragnar had chosen to keep that information a secret and had lied to them about why Heahmund was staying with them. The best way to keep something a secret was to use the truth to manipulate events to fit your narrative.

It was true that he had been looking for a place to stay and Father Carmichael had helped him out there with his contacts. He was a religious man and he was former military. That is where the truth ended. Heahmund was more than just a military veteran and theology student. He was also a private bodyguard. 

Unbeknownst to the Lothbrok's, because he had outsmarted and effectively humiliated the eldest son of a top competitor, Ivar was now a target. The son was angry that a teenager had managed to best him not once but twice and could not tolerate what he perceived to be a slight against his own business acumen and interests. He also saw Ivar as a future threat and had him targeted. Until Ragnar’s own men could find and eliminate the threats surrounding Ivar, the threats he himself was unaware of, Heahmund was to play glorified babysitter for the youngest of the Lothbrok brood.

Having met Ivar, he already knew there was going to be trouble. The dossier on him and Ragnar’s own commentary about his youngest son all said the same words to describe him. 

Brilliant. Cunning. Impetuous. Easily angered. Manic. Genius. Troubled. Short fuse.

He could understand those assessments after their brief ten second meeting. He perceived himself to be an excellent judge of character and he could tell Ivar would be a challenge. He would chafe and blow up if he knew he had a bodyguard. This was the best cover they could think of but it would not be easy. 

As Ivar muscled his way past him into his bedroom, he dropped the friendly charade. Ivar struck him as the type who would and could cut through bullshit fast so there was no point in pretending to be his best friend or even friendly. 

So this was to be a staredown. Heahmund met Ivar’s stare with one of his own, blue eyes meeting blue as both of them refused to back down.

“Why are you really here?”

So he was right. Ivar was quick to pick up on things and could cut through the lies and bullshit others tried to weave around him. He could not tell him the truth but he and Ragnar had discussed what to say should Ivar start asking questions and Ragnar was sure he would eventually start asking questions.

“Your father donates heavily to charitable causes. Military for Veterans among them. I happen to be one of those veterans. I did not realize you would be against helping someone who fought and sacrificed much for this country.”

Ivar’s face clouded with rage before he calmed himself. He gives Heahmund what some would consider a smile, if a shark could actually smile. All teeth, no warmth.

“Do not put words in my mouth Heahmund Bishop. I only asked what your real reasons for being here were. I have no problem helping military veterans and in fact, I thank you for your service. Had I not been born a cripple, perhaps I too would have helped this country like you.”

Walking around the room, Ivar notices the Bible on the nightstand, the rosary next to it and the crucifix on the bed. His shoulders slightly relax at the sight of the religious relics. He did not trust this man but it would seem his fervor for his faith was at least real. Walking to the French windows, he looks out before he begins to speak.

“Did you ever serve overseas? Fight in wars? Conflicts? What was it like?”

Heahmund stared at him before answering. He was wondering why Ivar would ask him this but the questions seemed harmless 

“Yes, I served active duty though what I did isn’t something I would discuss with you. There was always a conflict, always a battle when you’re in the military. What is was like depended on the day. Some days it was dull with little to distract or entertain you other than your own thoughts. Other days you are full of adrenaline and living from the high of those emotions and still other days you just pray you survive them. Why do you ask?”

Ivar nods once, his face pensive as he turns to face Heahmund.

“I would have liked to do something like that but I was born a cripple. My disability has forced me to take other paths in life. Some choices were taken from me before I even got the chance to decide for myself yet here you stand, a proud warrior. Why do you still believe in God. Certainly you fought and I would bet you have killed before. You know what it is to take someone’s life. How can a man who takes a life still have faith? Isn’t one of your commandments, Thou Shalt Not Kill?”

Heahmund frowns before a reluctant small smile lights his face. He had been warned that the boy could and would turn your own arguments against you. He had to admire at how neatly Ivar had done it to him with seemingly little to no effort.

“We only fight to protect and we only kill when there is no other choice. An enemy remains an enemy no matter what. It is a kill or be killed world Ivar especially when dealing with an enemy.”

Ivar smiles again before turning to leave Heahmund’s room. As he opens the door, he pauses as if something just crossed his mind.

“Isn’t there a saying, One man’s terrorist is another man’s freedom fighter? Which one were you Heahmund?”

Leaving Heahmund scowling after him, Ivar smirks and returns to his room, starting to like the idea of having the priest so close by.


	3. The Threat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar decides to be petty but Heahmund has his number. It's a battle of wills between the two.

It was the pounding sounds of rock that woke Heahmund up. Looking at his bedside clock, he notices it’s 2 in the morning. Groaning, he pulls his pillow over his head and hopes he drowns out the sounds of the music when he’d really rather be smothering Ivar under the pillows for being a royal shit.

Dinner that night had been an eye opening ordeal that made him reevaluate his life choices as well as the distinct thought that the reason this job was paying so well was because of having to deal with someone like Ivar. He should have been suspicious when he’d been told how much he’d be making to play babysitter to the sadistic loon in the room next to him. It was too late to back out now.

The pounding of the music did not decrease despite the pillow over his head. He knew Ivar was doing it on purpose. All through dinner, he had witnessed Ivar being Ivar. He would make snarky comments to Sigurd at every available moment. He would bark at Hvitserk sometimes for no reason. When he’d talk to Bjorn, he would speak slowly and in simple sentences making Heahmund think something was wrong with Bjorn if Ivar spoke to him as if he were a simpleton. Ivar would interrupt and question Ubbe on anything and everything he said, often contradicting him just to annoy Ubbe. In fact, the only sibling that did not get talked down to was Gyda. It appeared that his older sister was the only calming influence on this maniac. He made a mental note to ask her about her saintly patience when dealing with him. Ivar’s barbs had also made their way to Heahmund who merely stared at him or ignored him with no comment. He smirked as he remembered how Ivar would stare at him, angry because he was not giving his little snits the time of day. It appeared Ivar did not like to be ignored which explained the pounding rock music. This was his petty way of getting back at Heahmund for ignoring him.

Well to hell with this. There was no way he was going to let Ivar get away with acting like a brat. Rising out of bed, he doesn’t bother with a shirt. It wouldn’t take long to deal with the brat. Going to the room next door, he pounds on the door.

*************************

Ivar was enjoying his music nice and loud. It never occurred to him to be considerate to the man in the room next door simply because he had gotten used to being alone in the downstairs wing that it didn’t cross his mind that others were trying to sleep. When he finally remembered Heahmund would be sleeping, it just made him turn his music on a little louder. He could have put on his airpods but what fun would that be? He was just being a good host and sharing his love of rock with his neighbor. 

Snickering at that thought, he almost missed the pounding of the door. He outright laughs as he knows who it is. He uses his cane to help him walk to the door. It had been a long day and his legs hurt but he ignores the throbbing in his legs. He’s used to the pain by now. Opening the door, he smiles brightly at the very obviously furious man standing there before him wearing nothing but loose sleep pants and no shirt. 

“Priest! To what do I owe the pleasure at this time of night? Or is it morning?”

Heahmund ignores Ivar’s ridiculous greeting and pushes past him into the bedroom. Spotting the source of the music, he goes right to it and shuts it off.

“You are an inconsiderate asshole, you know that? Are you always this much of a jerk or is there a reason you like to piss everyone off and have them dislike you?”

He’s surprised when he sees a small shadow cross Ivar’s face at his comment before Ivar snaps back into his usual sneer.

“I’m inconsiderate? Such insulting words coming from a guest in my home. What do you want priest?”

“I want you to stop being a petty prick, keep your music down and let me sleep. Do you think you can do that or will we have a problem?”

As he spoke, Heahmund got closer to Ivar until he was facing him directly, their faces only inches apart. For his part, Ivar was not one to be easily intimidated or back down to anyone including the priest.

“I live here. You don’t. I can and will do anything I like and that includes blasting my music whenever I want, as loud as I want. If you don’t like it, go somewhere else.”

Switching tactics, Heahmund smiles at Ivar and puts his hands on his face, surprising him and causing him to stiffen. His voice goes from hard and angry to a soft whisper as he puts his face close to Ivar’s a mere inch apart as his thumbs graze the contours of the young face.

“Here’s the deal Ivar. You fuck with my sleep schedule, I will not hesitate to kick your ass. If you behave and let me sleep, I won’t kill you. Do we have a deal?”

Ivar is stunned at both the gentle caress, the soft voice and the words Heahmund was speaking. He tries not to think about how he likes Heahmund’s hands on his face or the shape of his lips. He swallows hard and nods, instinctively knowing Heahmund wasn’t lying about what he would do.

Heahmund gives Ivar another smile and releases his face before walking out, satisfied that Ivar would listen and behave for now. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe Ivar would stay this way for long. Once he got past the shock, he would fight back against Heahmund so he needed to be ready.

Returning to his room, he lays down and is asleep within minutes.

For his part, Ivar starts to turn off the lights and lays down in bed but can’t sleep. His mind is too full of Heahmund and his words, his threat and his touch. That wasn’t something he had expected or had any experience with. If he was being honest with himself, it had shaken something inside him and that bothered him more than anything.

Deciding to deal with it after he got some sleep, he closes his eyes and tries to ignore the phantom sensation of Heahmund’s touch on his skin.


	4. The Prank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two days. Heahmund received two days reprieve from Ivar who seemed to sulk and keep to his room more often than not, only appearing to get something to eat and then disappearing behind closed doors again.
> 
> Ivar's prank towards Heahmund yields an unexpected consequence changing the relationship between the two.

Two days. Heahmund received two days reprieve from Ivar who seemed to sulk and keep to his room more often than not, only appearing to get something to eat and then disappearing behind closed doors again.

Not for one moment did Heahmund believe he was behaving himself. No. Heahmund knew Ivar was thinking of how to retaliate and hit him hard. He knew it and was fully expecting Ivar’s retribution soon. It was odd but the anticipation and waiting for what Ivar had in store for him excited him. If it made him question his own logic and sanity, so be it. It had been a while since he had any real excitement and Ivar seemed to be the one to knock him out of his comfort zone. Instead, what Ivar did had pissed him off.

Heamund had left early for his class entitled Human Suffering: Job, Genesis and Revelation. He had a presentation due that morning he had worked hard on. It seemed everything had been going fine until he had reached the part of his presentation with the images of the suffering Job had gone through. 

All his slides had been replaced.

Instead of seeing Job lose his wealth, his children and his own health, all the slides had been replaced with porn. Not just porn. Oh no. Ivar wouldn’t do something so simple or so common. Each slide had what could loosely be called “biblical porn” which were nothing more than nude people fornicating while wearing crosses and holding bibles.

Angry and humiliated, he had to sit with the professor and dean and explain that it had been a prank played against him, he would fix it, present again and take the knock against his grade. Apologetic and humble on the outside, a seething rage was taking hold of him inside. Ivar would pay for this. As he left class and prepared to return to the compound, he was already thinking of how he would hurt Ivar and make him suffer for doing this to him. No amount of money was worth this.

Luck was on his side when he arrived and realized no one seemed to be around. All the siblings and Ragnar himself had made themselves scarce.

Perfect.

A grim smile appeared on his lips as he went to their shared wing. Ivar would be home, probably thinking he had gotten the best of Heahmund. How wrong he was. Heahmund was not one to take things laying down and this would be resolved between them now.

He didn’t bother to knock. He just opened Ivar’s door and stalked right in, annoyed not to see him. It’s the sound of a whimper that draws his attention. Looking over to the semi-closed door of Ivar’s bathroom, he quietly walks there and stops when he hears the small whimpering sound again. Uncertain of what’s going on, he reaches the door and lightly knocks and pokes his head in, surprised to see Ivar in the bathtub, a grimace of pain on his face as hot water pours in. 

Perhaps he’s aware he’s no longer alone or perhaps he hears the knock but Ivar opens his eyes and sees Heahmund staring at him. A flurry of emotions cross his face; Surprise, disbelief, anger and embarrassment.

“Get out.”

He speaks in a quiet voice laced with pain. Heahmund doesn’t move but continues to stare at Ivar. Not one to let anyone see weakness in him, Ivar tries to stand but he’s in too much pain, his legs trembling as he forces himself to stand only to lose his balance. He would have fallen had Heahmund not moved quickly and caught him. Ivar’s breath is ragged as he clings to Heahmund who gently lowers him back to the bathtub and stops the flow of water. It is there that Heahmund sees what Ivar hides away from everyone else. Multiple scars and somewhat misshapen legs from multiple surgeries. While Heahmund stares at his legs, Ivar stares at Heahmund, looking for signs of disgust or pity, braced as if ready for an insult or scathing comment. When none is forthcoming, he finally talks to Heahmund.

“There were too many problems with my legs when I was born. Doctors would operate to try to fix them but none of the operations worked. The best they could do was put titanium rods and pins to help me walk. All that left me like this. They hurt all the time but some days are worse than others. A dull ache sometimes, stabbing pains on other days. Immersing them in hot water helps with the pain. I don’t like taking pain medicines. It’s too easy to become dependent on them and I would have to take them for the rest of my life.”

For his part, Heahmund stays quiet as Ivar speaks. He was military. He had served active duty and knew what could happen to soldiers in combat. Far too many lost limbs or led lives like Ivar did. Lives filled with pain that they somehow managed to ignore and move on with.

Standing, he moves to drain the water and puts one arm under Ivar’s arms to help him get up. He could carry him but he knows that would only make Ivar angry and resent him. The best he can do is help take the weight off Ivar’s legs and help him. Grabbing a towel and helping Ivar wrap it around his waist, he helps him move slowly back to the room and gently helps Ivar lay down on his bed. 

For his part, Ivar is too weary and feeling too much pain to be angry. He keeps his eyes closed until he hears his door open and close. Shoulders drooping, he leans against his pillows and wonders why he opened up and talked so much to Heahmund. Surprise lights his face when Heahmund returns to his room holding a small bottle. Sitting at the foot of the bed, Heahmund puts whatever is in the bottle in his hands and begins to rub them as if he’s warming them up. Gently, he picks up one of Ivar’s legs and begins to gently massage his leg, starting at the ankle and working his way up his calf.

“What...what are you doing?”

Shock does not describe what Ivar is feeling. No one is allowed to look at his legs other than his doctor and they certainly are not allowed to touch them yet Heahmund seems to have no qualms about doing either. He's not repulsed or disgusted or makes shuddering motions when he's touching them.

“I’m massaging peppermint oil on your legs. Just relax and trust me on this.”

Strange as it is, Ivar slowly begins to lose his tension as he watches Heahmund take his time working on one leg. He doesn’t trust people yet he’s trusting Heahmund to do this for him. It’s a rather disconcerting feeling but he can’t deny that the scent of the oil, the warmth of Heamund’s hands on his skin and if he’s being honest with himself, just staring at him all make him feel better. No words are spoken between them as Heahmund finishes one leg and works on the other, his gentle movements starting to lull Ivar to sleep. He’s half asleep before he remembers something he wanted to ask Heahmund.

“How did your presentation go today?”

A grin lights both their faces, all anger gone from Heahmund and that mischievous spark in Ivar lighting his eyes before he closes them again.

“When you’re feeling better, I’ll kick your ass for what you did.”

He smiles as he speaks, his self-righteous anger long forgotten and in its place is concern and a feeling he can’t quite describe. Ivar has a small smile on his face as he falls asleep, the lines of pain and tension gone from his face as Heahmund finishes his work on his second leg. Rather than leave, he sits for a few more moments, staring at Ivar, his expression inscrutable but his thoughts are racing. Tucking the blanket around Ivar, he sits and watches him for a while before getting up and returning to his room.

He had a lot to think about.


	5. Loss of Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jealousy rears its ugly head as Ivar spies Heahmund and Gyda sharing a lighthearted moment. Ivar's reaction could have serious repercussions for Heahmund.

Ivar woke up with a light breeze caressing his face from his open balcony. He didn’t open it so he’s pretty sure Heahmund had done it. Looking to his bedside, he grabs his phone and checks the time. He’d only slept maybe a little over an hour. Restless energy is flowing through him as he remembers what had happened. He keeps playing with his phone in his hands as he remembers Heahmund helping him. Despite the joke he had played on him, Heahmund had still helped him. This wasn’t the first time his legs had pained him this badly. Mostly his legs hurt on a daily basis but he was used to that. This pain had been worse than normal. His own family just ignored him or snapped at him to take his pain meds. He often suffered in silence or just unleashed his anger out on them. Heahmund was different. He had not walked away or ignored him. He had helped him.

It made Ivar somewhat uncomfortable that Heahmund had not only seen his misshapen legs with all the scars going through them but that he had also not only seen them, he had touched them. He had not been grossed out or repulsed by them. He’d seen the faces his own siblings made the few times they’d seen his legs. Pity, revulsion or in Sigurd’s case, gleeful mocking. Heahmund had shown none of that as he had looked at them. He had not shied away from touching or massaging his legs until the pain went away. No one ever touched his legs. He barely tolerated the touch of the doctor on them. Again, after his initial shock and anger, he had been lulled by the feel of Heahmund’s hands on his legs and the soothing sound of his voice.

As awkward as it made him feel, he knew he needed to talk to Heahmund and thank him for his help. He’d have to do it when his siblings weren’t around. They were far too nosy and he hated asking for help and gratitude was a foreign concept for him.

Moving slowly, he’s surprised his legs aren’t hurting and that they feel pretty good. He could walk without the use of his cane and that made him smile a little. Walking out of his room, he moves cautiously so as not to over do it, just in case. He peeks in rooms, wondering where Heahmund could be at. He’s smiling at just how good his legs actually feel. He was in such a good mood, he decided he’d ask Heahmund to join him for dinner somewhere out of the compound. He needed to get out for a while anyway. He hated the cooped up feeling he sometimes got when he’d isolate himself away from everyone on purpose. Besides, Heahmund challenged him and that intrigued him. Not even his own brothers dared to go head to head with him. It was always easier to give in than to put up a fight, a fact that Ivar often exploited with glee. 

Dinner with Heahmund on his mind, he continues to look for the infernal man. Finally spotting him outside by the pool, Ivar takes a moment to stare at him. His mouth opens on a slight breath before he catches himself and wonders what the hell was wrong with him. Why was his mouth suddenly so dry at the sight of Heahmund? He’d seen other men with their shirts off. Why would this one be any different. Slightly annoyed with himself, he takes a deep breath as he steps outside to ask Heahmund to join him for dinner when he spies his sister getting out of the pool.

Ivar freezes in place as he sees Heahmund pick up a towel and wrap it around her, Gyda flirtatiously moving close to him as he smiles. He can’t hear what they’re saying but whatever Gyda says has Heahmund laughing as his hands linger on her arms. 

Enough was enough. Happy mood gone, Ivar turns and decides to go out by himself. It’s not like they’d miss him anyway. Going to his room for his keys, he ignores the voice that tells him he shouldn’t be driving after a bad day with his legs but he’s in too foul a mood to care.

Heahmund enters the house just in time to see Ivar’s car pulling away.

“Shit!”

Knowing he had fucked up, he runs to his room to change quickly and grab the keys to his bike. He didn’t know where Ivar was going but he had to catch up quickly. Donning a jacket to hide his gun, he storms outside, pissed off at himself for losing his focus and attention for a while. 

Finally on his bike, he races out of the compound, ice now flowing through his veins. He couldn’t really be mad at Ivar. It’s not like Ivar was aware of why Heahmund was really there anyway but fuck. If something happened, Heahmund was going to be the one to pay the price.


	6. The Mark of the Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ivar runs off. Heahmund chases.
> 
> Neither anticipates what happens but neither realize they are being watched.

Going west, Heahmund figures Ivar likely went downtown. He’s been stuck inside the compound for a while, he’s young and reckless. He more than likely went to where there would be people and some sort of activities going on. At least that’s what Heahmund is hoping. If something happens to Ivar, it would be his fault for neglecting his young charge in the first place. Frustrated, he speeds up to try and get to town faster. As he drives, he wonders what could have happened to set Ivar off so quickly. He had left him sleeping and wondered out to the pool to sit and read. Gyda had surprised him when she joined him. She swam while he read. They talked and he found her to be charming. He had even asked her what her secret was when it came to dealing with Ivar. They both laughed at her answer. “Love, patience and lots of martinis.”

He thinks back to what had alerted him to Ivar’s presence. He had not seen Ivar. It was more of a feeling. As he was talking to Gyda, he had sensed Ivar nearby. When he had entered, he had known immediately that Ivar was gone. He seemed to have some strange sixth sense when it came to Ivar and he really did not want to explore how or why that was.

As he nears town, he slows down and looks for a place to park his bike. He’d have to walk and hit all the bars and restaurants to look for him, maybe make some inquiries. His irritation with himself is growing when he spots a familiar figure entering a nearby bar and grill. Sighing with relief, he quickly finds a place to park his bike and goes to that establishment, pausing at the entrance to let his eyes adjust to the dim lighting inside. 

It’s not a dive bar but it is meant to be a more intimate setting place. It wasn’t particularly big making it easy for him to spot Ivar sitting alone in a booth in the far corner, a beer in his hands as he stares down at the table. Walking to him, he slides into the booth and signals to the waitress to come take his order. Ivar looks up, a frown marring his features as he realizes Heahmund is sitting in the booth with him. 

“What the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be trying to get into my sister’s pants?”

Oh bloody everlasting hell. Ivar had not meant to say that to him. It had shocked him to admit even to himself that he had felt a twinge of jealousy seeing Heahmund with his sister. Why the hell should he be jealous? This was Heahmund, a damn priest. He could not and would not have the hots for a priest. It couldn’t be. He was Ivar Lothbrok for god’s sake. He could have anyone he wanted and yet he seemed to harbor some sort of attraction for an insufferable know-it-all priest. Ivar did not believe in god or any religion. He believed in himself, power and strength. That’s what he believed in. And Heahmund represented everything he despised. He was religion, faith and spirituality. He was strong and whole. A person like Heahmund would never want anything to do with someone like Ivar. And why was he worrying about this? He wanted nothing more than the earth to open up and swallow him whole for asking about Heahmund and Gyda.

For his part, Heahmund looks surprised at Ivar’s question. It had never occurred to him that Ivar (or anyone really) would mistake his casual friendliness with Gyda as anything more than that. It was to Ivar’s relief that Heahmund misunderstood his words as something else.

“Ivar, I am not interested in your sister in that way. I understand you and your brothers would be very protective of her, being the only sister but I can assure you I would never cross that line with her or be disrespectful towards her in any way.”

He wants to believe. He really does but Ivar trusts very few and those few he does trust, there’s always a voice in the back of his head that cautions him about trusting too much. He stares at Heahmund who stares back, unflinching in his gaze. Relaxing, Ivar finally nods as he accepts Heahmund’s words. 

For a while, they sit there in comfortable silence drinking their beers. Ivar finally breaks the silence to admit to Heahmund what set him off.

“I was looking for you when I saw you outside by the pool with Gyda. I got bored and wanted to go out. Maybe grab some dinner and drinks. You’re the only person in that house that can stand being around me for more than five minutes. When I saw you with her, I thought you’d prefer to spend time with her. Who wouldn’t? In case you haven’t noticed, everyone avoids me.”

His own assessment of his interactions with his family are said so matter of factly, it rather surprises Heahmund. Most people were not so self-aware yet Ivar knew how people viewed him. Heahmund seems to understand. He only nods and gestures at Ivar with his beer. “Well, we’re here drinking and I can eat. Looks like we got our date after all.”

Ivar starts to laugh at his choice of words and Heahmund soon follows. Neither pay attention to the time as they sit in the bar and eat, drink and talk. To outsider observers, they’d see two attractive men relaxing and having a good time. For Heahmund, it was a good way to get to know Ivar outside of the confines of his family and home. For Ivar, it was him slowly opening up and allowing someone to get to know him. They talked about many things. Family, friends, movies, hobbies. It’s only when the conversations around them get louder that they realize it’s long past dinner and the hardcore bar crowd was starting to arrive. Neither wanted to be there with them so they agree to go back to the compound and hang out by the pool and drink some more.  
Well, Ivar was drinking. Heahmund had switched out to water. He never drank enough to get buzzed much less drunk. He needed to be aware of his surroundings and people at all times. Although Ivar wasn’t drunk, he’d still feel better if they returned home. 

“I’ll follow you since I rode my bike.”

The ride back to the compound was uneventful and soon they found themselves not by the pool but in Ivar’s room debating the merits of his choice in music. Ivar was into thrash and Swedish metal bands while Heahmund preferred more classic rock but both agreed on many bands. Their discussion then moved onto concerts they attended and were surprised to find they’d actually attended the same concert and had sat not too far from each other.

Heahmund is surprised at how easy their conversation flows and how comfortable he’s allowed himself to get with Ivar. It certainly makes his job easier if there’s established trust between them. When Ivar’s phone signals an incoming text, Heahmund reaches for the phone and hands it to Ivar before humor gets the best of him and he wraps his hand around it tight. Ivar tries to pry it from his fingers unsuccessfully but gives up because he’s laughing too hard. When Heahmund taunts him by holding his phone out with his fingertips, Ivar reaches out to grab it quickly but overbalances and ends up falling on the bed next to Heahmund where both proceed to laugh like idiots over something so ridiculous. For Ivar, it was a rare moment of genuine delight and letting his guard down. For Heahmund, it was an opportunity to see a side of Ivar that he did not allow others to see. 

As their laughter winds down, they remain on the bed, staring at each other, neither sure of what to do now. The silence between them stretches as they both slowly stop smiling and look at each other. It is Heahmund who moves first, shifting and raising his hand to graze his fingertips along Ivar’s jaw, his face leaning closer as his lips lightly brush Ivar’s before Ivar’s phone goes off again, jolting them both. Sitting up, neither can look at the other, stunned at what almost happened

Heahmund stands up and leaves Ivar’s room without a word. In the safety and confines of his own room, he paces and questions himself. What the fuck had just happened? He had one job and one job only. To keep Ivar safe. Nowhere did it say for him to care for him or develop any form of feelings. It was getting late but he was unable to sleep. To hell with this. He wasn’t one to walk away from a fight and he wasn’t about to walk away from whatever this was with Ivar. 

In his room, Ivar brushed his lips with his fingertips, unreasonably annoyed. What remained of his phone lay on the floor, the screen shattered and now rendered silent. He had hurled it across the room after Heahmund had left, angry at what the phone had cost him. Only now could he admit what he felt when he saw Heahmund with Gyda. He had been jealous. Jealous because he found Heahmund attractive. He wanted to be the one Heahmund talked to and made laugh and flirted with. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. There was no way he was going to let things go this easily. Leaving his bed, he stalks over to the door and yanks it open, surprised when he sees Heahmund on the other side with his hand raised as if he was about to knock.

No words were said between them as Heahmund walked in and pulled Ivar close to him and kissed him deeply as Ivar let go of the door and it softly closed.

Neither had noticed the pair of eyes with the mark of the snake watching them from the corner of the hall, a wide smirk crossing Sigurd’s features as he figured out what was going on.


	7. Paralyzed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inside the confines of Ivar’s bedroom, clothes are strewn on the floor. The only sounds are soft moans and half-bitten groans as Heahmund makes love to Ivar.

Inside the confines of Ivar’s bedroom, clothes are strewn on the floor. The only sounds are soft moans and half-bitten groans as Heahmund makes love to Ivar.

Ivar lays on his side as Heahmund moves behind him, both their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat as they move in time to Heahmund’s thrusts. Each time he moves, Ivar can’t help but gasp and moan. Heahmund kisses and bites his shoulder, his neck and his back as he continues to move inside Ivar. Nothing and no one had ever felt this good and this right. Heahmund is patient and takes his time with Ivar.  
Ivar is enjoying this too much. He had always been the dominant one in his relationships but to relinquish complete control like this? He had never wanted to. He had never thought he could and yet with Heahmund, it felt natural. He felt Heahmund’s hand slide across his body until it firmly grasped his cock, his hand matching his thrusts. His moans got louder as Heahmund began to move faster. He’s so close, he knows it, he can feel it. He doesn’t care if anyone can hear him. Heahmund can feel it and continues to slide in and out, urgency now in his movements until he feels Ivar tense and his release spills over his hand and onto the bed. Ivar’s gasps and pants continue as Heahmund flips Ivar to his stomach, grabs his hips and thrusts back into him. The time for being gentle is over as he begins to move, his hips slamming hard into Ivar, desperate to achieve his own release. Each gasp from Ivar had Heahmund move closer and closer until he finally gasps as he spills into Ivar. His body collapses on top of Ivar as they both fall to the mattress, chests heaving as they try to catch their breath.

Slowly moving off of Ivar, Heahmund lays on his back, his eyes staring at the ceiling as he begins to feel rational thought enter his head. He couldn’t deny it. This had been the best sex he’d ever had. Something about him and Ivar together fit. It also complicated things between them. Ivar would undoubtedly be angry when he found out why Heahmund was really there in the first place. And God help him if and when Ragnar found out Heahmund had something going with Ivar. Rubbing his hands over his face, he gives a rueful smile because he knows it would all be worth it to be with Ivar. He caught his interest and after this evening, he wanted more of him. To be with him, make him smile and laugh and yes, sleep with him again and again.

He looks over as he sees Ivar sit up, his knees drawn to his chest and his eyes staring at something only he sees against the wall.

“Ivar? Are you alright?” Ivar gives no answer. Concerned, Heahmund sits up and puts his hand on Ivar’s shoulder, surprised when Ivar shakes it off before turning to look at Heahmund with a curiously blank look on his face.

“You need to go.” Standing and ignoring the look of surprise on Heahmund’s face, Ivar slips on his boxers and walks to his bathroom. “I need to shower. I don’t want you here when I’m done.” 

He gives a brief glance just in time to see the shock and look of hurt on Heahmund’s face before he closes the bathroom door and locks it. He starts the water and steps in, allowing the hot water to wash over him as he rubs his chest as if he’s in pain. 

Ivar clenches his fists as he stands and lets the water pour over him. He hates himself for what he’d just done. Being with Heahmund that day had been one of the happiest he could remember. Everything about Heahmund was what he had always secretly longed for and wanted. The laughter, the things they had in common, what they disagreed on and the sex was better than he could have ever imagined. He connected with Heahmund and he understood him in a way his own family never had. It was this realization that terrified Ivar. No one got close to him. At best, he tolerated family and they were wary around him because of his temper and his ability to outwit them. Heahmund was neither afraid nor wary. Heahmund challenged him and while others would run away from him, Heahmund met him head on. Instead of giving it a chance, of giving them a chance, he had kicked Heahmund out like some cheap one night stand. He kept trying to rationalize it in his mind. You couldn’t trust anyone and sooner or later, Heahmund would probably have left  
him anyway.He turns off the water and dries off, wrapping a towel around his waist as he steps back into his bedroom. It’s empty. Heahmund took him at his word and left, the only sign he had ever been here were the rumpled sheets of the bed.

Angry with himself but stubbornly insisting he’s right to push Heahmund away, Ivar sits on the bed, misery already welling up inside him. 

********************

Heahmund watches Ivar enter the bathroom, his parting words left him stunned. He would have normally fought back and demanded to know what the hell was going on but it was the look on Ivar’s face that stopped him. That look of disgust he had given him. Contempt. He’d seen that look before but having Ivar give it to him had been unexpected. And it stunned him that it had hurt. When had he let Ivar start mattering to him? Why was he feeling this shock and hurt that Ivar dismissed him so easily?

The sound of running water interrupted his thoughts so he got up and quickly dressed again before leaving. Returning to his room, he too takes a shower, his mind racing and replaying the events of the evening as he tries to rationalize and pinpoint what could have caused Ivar to react this way. They had had fun together and the sex had been amazing so what the hell happened? He turns off the water and steps out but stops to look at the bathroom mirror. He looks a little pale which annoys him. He had one night stands before. Why should this be any different? Why was he letting Ivar get under his skin like this? He didn’t know and he didn’t understand it but it was annoying him. He was annoying himself. Leaving the bathroom, he stops and freezes as he sees Ragnar standing in his room while Sigurd smiles and leaves at Ragnar’s command.

*************************

In the morning, Ivar is surprised to see Heahmund’s bike pulling out, his large duffel slung to the side.

“You two really should have been more careful. Father wasn’t too happy to find out you and the priest were fucking.”

Sigurd’s voice carries a hint of glee hidden among the malice. As Ivar turns to look at him, Sigurd laughs.

“Oh come on Ivar. You really think no one noticed you two had the hots for each other? Had you kept it to that, it would have been fine but oh no. You guys couldn’t keep your dicks in your pants. See what happens Ivar? You destroy and run off everything and everyone you care about. Say goodbye to your priest because I’m pretty fucking sure dad will have him killed if he even attempts to contact you. You’re doomed to end up alone in this life. I hope the fuck was worth it.”

Still laughing, he saunters off, thoroughly enjoying this moment of having ruined what small chance of happiness Ivar could have had. 

Ivar continues to stare out the windows of the living room, shock reverberating through his body. He couldn’t even find it in himself to unleash his anger at Sigurd. All he could feel was the slow and painful realization that he likely would never see Heahmund again because Sigurd was right. Ragnar would never allow it. Not after this. A gentle hand on his arm forces him to turn and look at Gyda. She doesn’t say anything. She had heard everything Sigurd had said and she would have words for him later but right now, Ivar needed her. Guiding him to the sofa, she lets him rest his head on her shoulder as they quietly sit. Gyda is offering silent support and comfort before she finally speaks.

“Ivar, you need to go after him. To hell with Sigurd. He was the one who saw you and told father last night about you and Heahmund. You want to be with him? Go. Don’t let anyone stop you. Not father. Not Sigurd. No one. Go!”

Snapping out of his stupor, Ivar nods and runs to his room to grab his keys. He sees Ragnar standing with Gyda and distantly hears him call his name but he ignores him. Gyda was right. To hell with Ragnar and Sigurd and anyone else in his family and what they would think. He needed to find Heahmund. Running to his car, he steps in just in time to see Ragnar racing outside shouting and waving his arms but he ignores him just as he ignores his brothers also coming outside, confused about the commotion.

“FUCK! IVAR! IVAR! COME BACK!”

Ragnar feels terror hit his gut. He should have explained all this to Ivar when it had first started but it was too late. Ivar was gone, chasing after Heahmund and in more danger than he knew. He races back into the house, barking orders into his cell phone, chaos swirling about him as his sons and daughter question him, worried about what the hell was going on. He has no time to explain other than to tell his sons to gear up and to call Rollo and Floki. The grim set of his features keep them from asking questions as they race to the SUV’s starting to screech onto the compound.

*************************

Ivar drives fast. He doesn’t know where he’s going yet but maybe near the University or the church. Those seem like the likeliest places Heahmund would go. He tries the University first but driving around, he doesn’t see the motorcycle in any of the parking lots. It’s actually pretty empty so he gives up. The campus was too big to search but if he doesn’t find him at the church, he will return and look at the buildings that house the religious classes.

Driving to the church, he sees no sign of Heahmund but instinct has him stopping anyway. He doesn’t know why but his senses are telling him Heahmund is nearby and something is wrong. He parks and looks around, the street surprisingly empty. It was early but there were usually a few people lingering. The relentless ringing of his phone draws his attention but he silences it when he sees its Ragnar calling him. He ignores the texts from his brothers and only bothers to reply to Gyda telling her he’s at the church. Pocketing his phone, he steps out of the car and walks up the steps to the church.

His skin is crawling as he goes to the big double doors and finds them unlocked. Frowning, he steps inside expecting to find morning service or that weird confession thing they did. Instead, he sees that the inside of the church is under extensive construction with scaffolding and beams going up to the rafters. His instincts are bothering him now, like a silent alarm warning him to get out but he ignores it. He needs to find Heahmund. He wants to call out to him but doesn’t, worry starting to crawl through him.

*************************

Heahmund was at the church, his rifle set and secure as he watched the men who wanted Ivar dead and Ragnar ruined enter. He had his orders. These men would not call off their orders so he was to take care of them. He had spoken with Ragnar extensively the night before and this was the decision Ragnar had come to. It was the only way to secure Ivar’s safety and that of his family because he knew these men would not stop at one son. Heahmund himself had set the meeting up here as a ruse and was surprised they had agreed to it. Their own greed and stupidity overcame their common sense that it was a bad idea to meet with anyone. He watched and waited for his opening then cursed when he heard the church doors opening. The men hid well among the construction mess and he could only imagine their glee at seeing their target walk in willingly like a lamb to slaughter. With them hiding, he couldn’t pick them off either. Shit. His mind racing, he knows what he has to do. Quickly moving, he hides his rifle and makes sure his gun is ready at his side. He rushes down, not caring that he’s making noise. 

He reaches the first floor of the church just in time to see one of the men move out from behind a pillar as he aims directly at Ivar. Moving fast, Heahmund draws his gun as Ivar turns just in time to see him draw and begin to fire. Ivar feels a heavy weight slam into his body as gunfire erupts taking him by surprise. He’s equally shocked to see Ragnar, Rollo, Floki and his brothers rush into the church, guns drawn and firing away. It’s only when there’s no more noise that he realizes it had been Heahmund that had tackled him to the ground. He slowly sits up, his arm reaching out to Heahmund who still is on the ground with him.  
He shakes his shoulder as Heahmund turns and he realizes his shirt is covered in blood as it begins to pool around him.  
For a split second, he’s in disbelief as he realizes what happened. 

“Heahmund? HEAHMUND!”

Chaos ensues as his family realize what has happened. Ivar places his hand over his stomach as if he’s trying to staunch the flow of blood. He distantly hears Rollo mutter the words “gut shot” to Floki who looks grim. He struggles and fights as Hvitserk and Ubbe try to pull him away from Heahmund. He can’t leave him there. He can’t leave Heahmund alone again. Why don’t they listen to him? He continues to struggle as they drag him out of the church and into one of the waiting SUV’s. It’s only when Ubbe tells him they’re going to meet the ambulance at the hospital that he stops his struggle and fidgets with impatience. Time moves in slow motion as they drive to the hospital and as they’re led to a private waiting room. He sees them rushing Heahmund to surgery and he waits, talking to no one and not listening to anyone. He sits still as Gyda tries to clean the blood off his hands and arms. He ignores Ragnar when he enters and tries to talk to him. He can’t even find it in himself to look at Sigurd when he tries to talk to him, to apologize.

He doesn’t want to talk to any of them. 

Hours pass. He senses his family coming and going, trying to talk to him, to get him to eat but he ignores them all. He stands, he paces and he sits. 

He waits.

He’s pacing the hall again as he sees the surgeon coming towards them. His brief moment of relief turns into horror as he meets the doctors eyes, sees the expression on his face and already knows that whatever he has to say, it won’t be good.. 

The doctor motions him inside the waiting room and closes the door behind him.

Time stands still as the doctor tells them that due to the location of the gunshot and how it fragmented inside his body, Heahmund suffered severe internal injuries. Though there is still much swelling and it is still too early to determine, it is very likely that Heahmund has been left paralyzed from the waist down.


	8. Awake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heahmund drifts in a state of semi-consciousness.  
> Ivar never leaves his side.

He drifts in and out of consciousness. There is pain but it’s not really his. Or is it? He doesn’t know. He hears the soft sounds of voices and always he feels the warmth of someone gripping his hand or lightly touching his face. He wants to wake and see who it is and speak to them but he can’t. The darkness keeps pulling him down to where there is no awareness and no pain. Someone whispers to him but the words are indistinguishable as he fights awareness and loses the battle against sleep. 

 

Days bleed into night as his body slowly begins to heal but still he cannot wake. He’s living in a waking nightmare. He is sometimes aware of what’s going on but his eyes refuse to open and his body refuses to move. The voices lose their sadness and an urgency begins to take their place and still he can feel the warmth of someone touching him and this time he can finally hear the whispers.

 

“Wake up Heahmund. Please. Come back to me.”

 

He tries. God knows he tries so hard to wake up, to respond but he can’t. Whatever happened to him, he’s trapped in a world of darkness where awareness only comes in short intervals. During those brief moments of lucidity, he tries to remember what happened to him but those memories are fuzzy. He remembers people, names and faces but the events that left him in this state are gone from his memory. The harder he tries to remember, the faster he loses his state of consciousness and he goes back to the dark.

 

**************************************

 

“Ivar, it’s time you accept that Heahmund may not wake up.”

 

As always, he remained stubborn, silent and angry. Ivar knew better. He knew Heahmund would return to him one day and he wanted to be there with him and for him when that day arrived. 

 

“He’ll wake up. I know he will.”

 

That’s all he’d say as his father gives a concerned glance towards his brothers. After that night, they had all watched helplessly as Ivar remained in the hospital with Heahmund, only leaving when the nurses forced him to leave and returning the minute visiting hours started. Whatever life he’d led before was gone as Ivar had no interest in returning to it. When Heahmund had physically recovered and been transferred to long-term care facility, Ivar had followed, rarely leaving his side. This had been enough for his family to finally step in and try to talk sense into Ivar.

 

“You can’t put your life on hold like this Ivar. It isn’t healthy. No one is saying you can’t visit but you can’t spend every waking moment there with him. He’s being well taken care of. It’s ok if you go out and have some fun and start to live your life again.”

Ignoring them, Ivar gets up and leaves. Visiting hours had already started and already he was late thanks to this family meeting his father had called. They didn’t understand. None of them did.

 

Back at home, the rest of his family discussed what they could do but their hands were tied. Ivar could not move forward if he could not let go. The arguments were not new but their frustration and concern for him were at the forefront of everything.

 

“We could just move Heahmund somewhere else and not tell Ivar.”

 

“Hvitserk, that is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had and that’s saying something. You really think Ivar would give in that easily?”

 

“Shut up Ubbe. I don’t see you coming up with any solutions.”

 

“Will both of you shut up already. You’re giving me a headache. Ivar is a grown man. If this is how he wants to spend his days, leave him be. It’s his life and whatever he feels he owes Heahmund, that’s on him, not us.”

 

“You’re all heart and compassion Sigurd.”

 

“What? You expect me to feel guilty? Well I don’t. I have nothing to feel guilty for. Ivar is choosing to wear his martyr shirt and I’m tired of it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have better things to do than to sit here and talk about poor Ivar again.”

 

“Sit your ass down Sigurd and shut up. You do not leave until I say you can leave.”

 

As always, Ragnar has the final word. Sigurd’s lips compress in a thin line of annoyance as he waits for his father to speak. As far as he was concerned, the meeting was a waste of time. Ragnar had likely already made his decision. He just wanted to play puppet master with them and as always, they danced to his tune.

 

“Like it or not, we are all responsible for what happened to Heahmund. Close your fucking mouth and don’t say another goddamn word.”

 

Sigurd shuts his mouth, his argument trapped in his throat at his father’s words. No one ever argued with Ragnar when he was this angry.

 

“We can all agree that this isn’t healthy for Ivar but this is what he needs to do. What he feels for Heahmund isn’t something we can just expect him to blow off. However inconvenient it is for some…” and here he throws a damning glance at Sigurd, “he’s still your brother so you will be supportive. You don’t have to go to the care hospital all the time but drop by once in a while and show Ivar you support him for as long as it takes. Do I make myself clear?”

 

One by one he watches as all his children nod their heads and leave. Sigurd the last one to rise before he skulks away, anger in his steps. In his own mind, nothing could ever compel him to go see Ivar and Heahmund.

 

********************************

 

_ When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. _

 

Putting down the Bible, Ivar stares at Heahmund’s peaceful face. If he let himself believe it, he could almost convince himself that Heahmund was merely sleeping.

 

Almost.

 

“Really Heahmund. Your Bible here is full of holes. These passages about hope? They’re all bullshit. You know that right?”

 

It was a ritual he’d developed months ago as he sat with Heahmund. He’d found Heahmund’s Bible amongst his things when they’d cleared out his place and he started reading it to Heahmund. He never read in any particular order. He’d read passages that Heahmund had earmarked, highlighted and sometimes he randomly chose some himself. It gave him a small sense of comfort to read this to Heahmund knowing how religious he had been. Sometimes he liked to argue with Heahmund’s sleeping form about what he read. Though he never received a response, he could easily picture and hear what Heahmund’s arguments to him would be.

 

He puts down the Bible, a sly smirk forming on his face as he pulls out his phone to something he had earmarked especially for Heahmund. Turning it on, he leans in and whispers softly to Heahmund.

 

“Now poetry? This can be quite fun. To change things up, I’m going to read you some poetry.”

 

Grinning like an idiot, he starts to recite from the site he’d found.

 

_ There was a young girl of Cape Cod  _

_ Who thought babies were fashioned by God,  _

_ But ’twas not the Almighty  _

_ Who hiked up her nightie –  _

_ ‘Twas Roger, the lodger, by God! _

 

He starts laughing and can only imagine the look on Heahmund’s face if he realized his poem was blasphemous. Perhaps it’s his exhaustion or his own misery or even his feelings of guilt intertwined with what he feels for Heahmund but his laugh soon turned to cries of grief and despair, Sigurd’s words ringing in his ears. Immediately he rears back, annoyed with himself over his behavior. Crying wouldn’t help him and it certainly wouldn’t help Heahmund. A soft beeping from the monitors tell him it would soon be time for the nurses to come and move Heahmund again. He holds Heahmund’s hand again as he lays his head next to his, his thumb softly stroking the skin of his hand.

 

How long he lays there he doesn’t know but it’s the feeling of his own hand being lightly squeezed that rouses him. Confused, he looks around but doesn’t see anyone. He feels that pressure again and looks down, realization hitting him that Heahmund was squeezing his hand. Looking at his face, he sees Heahmund’s eyes flutter slightly and he expels a deep breath. Shock courses through Ivar as he realizes what’s happening.

 

“Heahmund? Can you hear me?”

 

Again he feels the light pressure as he smiles and laughs. He quickly presses the alert button to get a nurse in the room as he sits and strokes Heahmund’s face, smiling wider when his eyes open and remain open.

 

Heahmund turns his head slightly to look at Ivar. He tries to speak but can’t quite form the words just yet in his confused state so he smiles instead.

 

The room is soon a buzzing hive of doctors and nurses checking on the patient who was awake. Confused but awake.

 

Ivar never leaves his side.

 

 


End file.
